


Reflections

by abaranthion



Category: ALL OUT!! - Amase Shiori (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, Drinking to Cope, Loneliness, M/M, Pantsing, Rain, Stripping, Texting, Undressing, Waiting, Wet Clothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-31 22:18:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13984482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abaranthion/pseuds/abaranthion
Summary: Yoshida's been waiting for a relationship like the one he has with Futami all his life. He can wait a little longer, right?





	Reflections

**Author's Note:**

> For AO Ship Week  
> Using prompts: First date, Rainy day, Angst

The bar was pretty vacant, most probably due to the rain that was battering at the large street-facing window. Yoshida took his focus off the sidewalk outside and briefly looked at his reflection, he was simply grateful that the aching longing he felt wasn’t clear in his eyes behind the lens of his glasses.

 

Glancing out of the window in case he’d missed him in the short interim, Yoshida picked his phone up off the table and checked his messages again even though he knew a new one hadn’t arrived since he last checked it (what he could optimistically call) two minutes ago. The last text was still his curt reply to Futami’s “Still late. So sorry”. Even though he’d read it countless times in the last hour, it still made Yoshida’s stomach turn. He dropped the phone back on the table and swiped up his beer. As he glugged it down, he looked through the bottom of the glass at the place they were supposed to meet. 2 hours ago.

 

He replaced the tankard next to his phone and noticed how quickly the level had dropped. Remembering the first time he and Futami had spent any social time together, Yoshida ruefully thought how his love for Futami was turning him into an alcoholic. No, he corrected himself, his  _ feelings  _ for Futami were turning him into an alcoholic. Not love, it was too early for love.

 

His phone buzzed, turning with the vibration on the table. He grabbed it eagerly and turned the screen on: low battery 5%. He cursed himself, both for his misplaced hope and for forgetting to charge the device. He was normally so organized but preparing for his date with Futami, Yoshida had been in an uncharacteristic fluster. He looked down to check he hadn’t left home without his pants on.

 

With the phone in hand, he thought he better check if Yoshida had sent a text at the same time. Inevitably disappointed, he switched the screen off and put it down, then lifted the beer again. He nearly choked as he tried to swallow around the lump in his throat.

 

The glass returned to the table with a hollow thud. Yoshida realized he’d finished another. He was feeling lightheaded and wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or not. He wasn’t really sure of anything anymore.

 

He decided it was time to stop drinking and move on. He got to his feet, pocketed his phone and walked out of the bar, thanking the barman automatically.

 

He was immediately drenched. The rain had gotten a lot worse during his time in the bar and a chill wind drove it laterally in harsh gusts. Ignoring the worst of it, Yoshida stepped out into the river that was ostensibly a road, and crossed to the wide promenade. He stood for a moment, looking out across the bay at the reflected lights of Chiba prefecture on the turbulent waves.

 

When he turned to head for home, he saw him. Futami was there. He’d finally arrived.

 

Yoshida called to him, but his voice was lost in the tumult so he ran closer, all memories of the long wait evaporating. ‘Futami,’ he said as he approached, ‘you made it.’

 

It wasn’t Futami. It was obvious now Yoshida was nearer. The obscuring rain, the lack of pedestrians, his desperation to see Futami were all factors that Yoshida considered contributed to his being mistaken. He thought even a brown haired girl might have appeared as Futami in the state he currently found himself.

 

After apologizing to the stranger, Yoshida couldn’t move. He’d gone numb and not due to the cold. He just stood there, letting the rain fall.

 

This wouldn’t do, he decided. What happened to moving on?

 

He walked away.

 

When he got to the railway station, his phone vibrated in his pocket, continuing to do so as he retrieved it. But all the phone was indicating was that it was turning off due to battery power. He cursed his lack of foresight again, but this time not just in regards to his phone. He was regretting ever getting his hopes up of having a long distance relationship with Futami. Or any relationship for that matter.

 

He leaned against the wall of the station and hoped that at least  _ something  _ in his life would be reliable.

 

 

* * *

  
  


His glasses steamed up as Yoshida entered his apartment. Shutting the door behind him, he took them off to wipe, his vision remaining equally obscured. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he replaced his glasses and determinedly walked into the kitchen.

 

The light from the fridge illuminated the dark space as he took a bottle out. After twisting the cap off, he tossed it into the bin and took a swig of beer.

 

He took off his jacket and slung it on the heater before unbuttoning his shirt on his way to the living room. He had to get out of his wet things.

 

Sinking into his armchair with a heavy sigh, he rested the bottle on his knee and stared sightlessly ahead of him.

 

Eventually he addressed the two moss balls on the ledge beside him, ‘Well, that went exactly as ‘pected, Mokichi. Pretty pathetic, huh Mosuke?’ As they didn’t respond, Yoshida placed the beer between them and pulled his half-unbuttoned shirt off over his head. His vest was a little damp, but he decided to leave it on until he was ready to have a shower. Drinking a beer while sitting under a stream of water, hoping it would wash away his suffering, that was fine, wasn’t it?

 

He picked up the bottle and unbuckled his belt with his other hand. He’d just pushed his pants to his feet when there was a knock at the door. Wondering when the trials of this day would end, he yanked his pants back up and went to see who it was.

 

Yoshida opened the door and Futami was there. He didn’t notice anything about him, just that he was there. Yoshida was frozen in place, staring with shock. If he  _ had  _ been able to move he might have been able to stop his pants from slipping down at that very moment and dropping to his ankles. Yoshida’s face turned the same shade of red as his boxers while Futami tried to stop the smirk fighting to reach his lips.

 

When Yoshida’s brain finally told him that he could in fact move, instead of securing his pants, he moved forward to give Futami a hug, tripped over and fell. He grabbed for something to halt his fall and ended up with a handful of Futami’s pants which slipped to the floor with Yoshida. Looking up, he saw that Futami had managed to grab the beer bottle. He took a swig, looked down at Yoshida, and said, ‘Good to see you too.’

 

Yoshida scrabbled up Futami’s leg and unsteadily got to his feet, buckling his wet pants up again. ‘You’re here,’ he said a little redundantly.

 

Futami smelled his breath and indicated the bottle, ‘How many of these have you had?’

 

‘Jush tha one,’ Yoshida slurred indignantly (and technically honestly) but the look he got persuaded him to reveal, ‘and three at a bar.’

 

‘I better catch up, then,’ Futami said and took another glug. He drew the back of his hand across his lips and wiped it down his top. It came away even wetter, prompting him to ask, ‘Have you got any towels? I don’t wanna ruin your carpet.’

 

‘Of course! Let me jush…’ Yoshida went to fetch them, his heart fluttering, making his head spin. He couldn’t believe Futami had shown up at his door. It nearly exploded when he returned to see Futami had taken his top off, water dripping from his hair and running down his athletic body. Yoshida swallowed and handed him the towel, exchanging it for the beer.

 

Futami pulled down his briefs and kicked them off along with his pants. Yoshida wasn’t sure where to let his eyes rest, looking everywhere and nowhere with a dumb smile plastered on his face.

 

Despite his best efforts, Yoshida couldn’t stop himself from looking at the exposed privates in front of him. The heavy cock and fuzzy nuts. Suddenly he grabbed Futami’s wrist and pulled him into the living room, saying for no reason that he could discern, ‘Tha reminds me! You need to meet my mossh ballsh.’ He positioned the naked and confused Futami in front of the shelf, leaned over with his head resting on his shoulder and pointed to his plants with the beer bottle, ‘Tha’sh Mokichi, and there tha’sh Mmmosuke.’

 

‘Hello, little guys,’ Futami said, delicately taking the beer and waving with his fingers as he took the last swig. He put the empty bottle between the two moss balls. ‘They’re real sweet,’ he said and began to turn to Yoshida, but he was stopped.

 

‘You can’t leave ‘at there,’ he said, ‘no, tha goesh in’a reshycling bin.’

 

‘Yes, Teach,’ Futami said with mock-obeisance, snapping up the bottle and leaving for the kitchen. Yoshida didn’t think he’d have a problem finding it in his small apartment. He wiped the shelf with his hand to ensure no condensation would spoil the finish.

 

The idea of cleaning flashed in his mind and he remembered that he hadn’t had the shower he’d been thinking of before Futami arrived. Suddenly the prospect of showering together held an irresistible appeal. Yoshida took off his vest then hooked his thumbs in his waistband. He felt a little embarrassed, but had just enough confidence to pull down both his pants and boxers.

 

He turned to check in the reflection of the window that he looked presentable. He saw Futami come back into the living room behind him. He wrapped his arms around Yoshida and they both looked at themselves together in the makeshift mirror.

 

‘I’m sorry I was late,’ Futami said, ‘I ruined our first proper date.’

 

‘What happened to you? I was waiting there for hours!’ Yoshida couldn’t stop the whine seeping into his voice.

 

‘I dunno really. There were accidents on the road. I guess cos of the rain. I had no phone signal for ages either, and when I did I couldn’t get through to you.’

 

‘Shit, my phone!’ Yoshida suddenly recalled, ‘it ran out of battery. I still haven’t plugged it in.’

 

‘That’s OK. I’m here now,’ Futami squeezed a little tighter, ‘it all worked out in the end.’

 

‘Hold on though. How come you’re here? Why didn’t you go to the marina?’ Yoshida felt like he was being a particularly suave Sherlock.

 

‘I  _ did _ go to the marina,’ Futami explained, ‘I kept trying to ring you, and this barman came out and asked if I was waiting for you. He said you’d just left, so I rushed to get here. Good job I made sure I got your address, huh? I woulda got here sooner but I don’t really know Kanagawa.’

 

Yoshida turned to him, ‘You’re here. That’s all that matters. We’ve missed out a lot of time, so we’ve got to make the most of the rest of the night.’

 

‘Just the night?’ Futami smiled and directed Yoshida’s attention to the entrance where a suitcase sat next to his discarded clothes. ‘I’ve taken the week off,’ he said with relish, ‘We’ve got plenty of time left, Teach.’

 

Yoshida felt his face flush with exhilaration, thoughts of the attractions they could visit around the city flooding his mind. They were dammed when he realized his plans were scuppered before they were even set, ‘Shame we won’t be able to see many sights around Tokyo, this weather’s forecast to be here all week.’

 

‘Hmm,’ Futami considered, ‘I guess we’ll just have to see what sights we can make inside.’

 

‘Mm,’ Yoshida nodded, ‘I’d like that. But before anything else, I really need a shower. Want to join me?’

 

‘Of course!’ Futami said and let himself be led away to the bathroom.

 

In the window, the reflection of their nude butts receded into the hallway as they left the living room, together at last.


End file.
